the new year always brings a little sadness, part 1

Well, I say "always," but don't really mean that.  I'm really only talking about 3 instances. 

The first is when Mark left for basic training.  In some ways it seems like so many more years ago than just 4.  We got engaged December 18, 2007, and he left for 7 months of training January 2nd, 2008.  I still get that "rock-in-the-stomach" feeling when I think about that day, so I try to keep it tucked away nice and neat, in a pretty box at the back of my brain (bottom shelf) (under all the heavy boxes) (it really doesn't need to be opened too often).  But since I've already got the feeling, I'll dig through and share what's in the box.  My mom and I took Mark to Atlanta to drop him off for basic.  We wanted to have our wedding date before we said goodbye, so on the way, I HAD to have a venue.  Like, pronto.  So I called our church and asked if they had August 9th available.  They did, voila.  Wedding date set. 

We pulled up to the hotel and Mark shut his phone off, put it in the cigar box that held all his memorabilia of me, and handed me the box.  Ughhhhh.....  All 3 of us got out of the car and I stood back and watched mom hug Mark goodbye, somewhat removed from myself, hoping that maybe if I could zone out hard enough I would freeze time and not have to say goodbye.  Then they parted and Mark looked over at me.  Ugh, that look.  Me: immediate tears.  Floodgates open.  There was a river of tears at our feet.  I was about to hug and kiss Mark goodbye and I wouldn't know the next time I could talk to him.  He just held me and said over and over "August 9th, August 9th......  That's not that far away....... August 9th."  Somehow we managed to let each other go and part ways.  I got in the car with mom and turned to watch Mark walk into the hotel without looking back (smart man). 

I held myself together reasonably well until we saw a yellow pickup truck on the interstate.  Mark and I always had a game of "bingo" going, where you punch each other when you see a yellow vehicle on the highway.  I broke the silence by pointing and saying (quite pathetically) to mom "biiingooooooaaaaaahhhhhwaaaahhhhhhwaaaaahhh" (something like that).  We got home, mom went to the gym, and I bawled my way through an angry conversation with God.  I can't do this....  There's been a mistake....  This isn't the kind of trial I can handle.....  Bring him back to me now please!  Wore myself out, collapsed on the bed, fell asleep, and woke up determined to make it through that season of life.  If you can't change the circumstances, might as well suck it up and live with it, as difficult as it is.

(I am now packing that box back up, hoping to not revisit it any time soon.  Kthanks.)

So, that was January 2008.  Happy new year.

January 2009 and 2010 went by reasonably unnoticed.

January 1, 2011, however, was when Mark left for his 6 weeks of training in PA.  I was 8 months pregnant, and that was his only time to do it.  If he was going to get that school under his belt, it had to be then.  And we'd been waiting for that school since 2009.  Go figure.  The army has great timing.  So as I look back on it, I remember my mindset being something like deep breath.... i love you, i'll miss you like crazy, be safe, and please come home safely for the birth of our son.  Unlike January 2, 2008, I don't remember much, if any, sobbing my guts out (I was afraid of Roscoe thinking that was his cue).  But it wasn't easy.  Thankfully, I had no children to care for, plenty of people looking out for me, 36 hours of work a week, and plenty of desire to sleep in between.  I was due on February 18th, Mark was scheduled to come home February 11th, I had an AWESOME-BLOW-HIS-MIND date night planned for February 12th, and then he broke down on the side of the interstate in Virginia.  About the whole gut-wrenching-cry-signaling-Roscoe-to-come-out thing, well I'm just glad I didn't cry much while Mark was gone because the news that he was stuck on the side of the road sent me into a fit I couldn't quite control, and it was 6 or 7 hours later that I was in full-on-can't-sleep-through-the-contractions labor.  Thankfully, with the help of family and friends, Mark came home in time for Roscoe's birth, but we didn't get that REALLY AWESOME DATE because I was in stupid labor for all but 1.5 hours of the 12th.  Thanks a million, Roscoe.

Got somewhat sidetracked there, but January 1st, 2011, saying goodbye for 6 of the last 7 weeks of our first pregnancy..... Happy new year.

After that, Mark said he would never plan to leave again the beginning of January.  It's just too much.  When everyone else seems to be celebrating and toasting and laughing and cheering in the new year, we were beginning to associate it with him leaving.  So we'd be dejectedly holding our glasses down, distant, smiling occasionally but more preoccupied with the impending goodbye.

Ah, yes, I said there were 3 instances.

Well, one hasn't happened yet.  So that's nice...  It's not close enough to the new year to squelch the celebration of "out with the old, in with the new," but it's still annoyingly  close enough to be a little "in your face."  Lest you think Mark didn't keep his promise, he had no control over the dates of the upcoming trip.  We're just thankful it didn't happen the first or 2nd week in January!

But since it hasn't happened yet, it's not necessary or relevant.  Having tried it both ways, I prefer to take things one day at a time (rather than holding upcoming days and weeks in one giant armload).  If you can do that, props to you!  I still haven't figured out how it's possible.  So.... Mark's next trip is still in the future.  And I don't like for future events to take away any happiness I might have in the here and now.  So watch for "the new year always brings a little sadness, part 2" if you want this story developed.  Since it hasn't happened yet, I don't know what to say about it.